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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155210">Camouflage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz'>Zivitz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>La Vie En Rose [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Suits (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:34:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's not about the mug.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>La Vie En Rose [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Camouflage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Abby, who requested Donna crying for no reason. This happened instead.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door was wide open when he got home, a flurry of activity happening just beyond his front door. It was going to be strange to be leaving this place- he’d had this condo forever, it seemed, and it was one of the things he truly loved and depended on for stability even when everything else in his life was off kilter. Deaths in the family, Marcus’s illness, girlfriends, work, Donna; this was home, and it was his constant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But no more, as he dodged a mover with a box of books. Today was the big day, where he said goodbye to this place and everything it represented to start fresh in a podunk town (okay, so maybe that was harsh, but it wasn’t New York) on the other side of the country with his best friend and the love of his life. And Mike and Rachel, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harvey skirted a few boxes and one of the workmen, who gave him a side glance he couldn’t decipher- until he saw her on the end of the couch, curled in on herself amid the bustle and boxes and packing paper. He lifted the coffees high as two men passed with his desk, then put them on the floor by the fireplace as he knelt beside her<span>.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>What’s the matter? What happened?” He stroked a thumb along her cheekbone, finding it wet with tears.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>I couldn’t find my mug,” she said through trembling lips, and he paused in confusion. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>You... couldn’t find your mug,” he stated, and she nodded.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>Donna, it’s moving day. Your mug was packed last night, that’s why I went to get coffee.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>I </span><em>know</em><span>,” she said, as if he was the idiot here. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>Okay,” he said slowly, taking a seat next to her on the couch and putting an arm around her shoulders. He apparently was the idiot here, because he couldn’t fathom why she was so upset over a mug she’d happily packed herself last night after their Last Official Coffee at home in New York. The next time </span><span>they had Real Coffee </span><span>they’d be living out of boxes looking at a completely different coast, she’d commented happily.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>S</span>
  <span>he turned toward his embrace, reaching a hand around his midsection and nuzzling into his shoulder. “I was just out of the shower and the movers showed up, so I thought I’d get a cup of tea but when I reached into the cupboard,” she sniffed, “I just... it’s gone. All of it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>It’s not </span><em>gone</em><span>, Donna, it’s just packed. We’ll see it again in a few days.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>Not the mug, Harvey,” she said with a wave of her hand. “This whole </span><em>life</em><span>. Everything we’ve built here, all our friends, the firm, this home, you and me... it doesn’t exist any more. No one is going to keep our places in case we come back. It’s </span><em>over</em><span>.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He held her a little tighter. This he could understand. “It is over,” he said into her hair. “But there’s another beginning just around the corner. And I get to face it with you as my </span>
  <em>wife</em>
  <span>. And that’s the best part about it. I could go anywhere and be anything as long as you’re with me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>How do you always know the right thing to say,” she mumbled into his collar. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>It’s one of the great mysteries of Harvey Specter,” he said, shrugging against her shoulder. He felt her smile against him. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>Like why I started crying because of a mug?” She lifted her head, wiping at the last of her tears with the heel of her palm. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned forward retrieved the cooling coffees from the floor, handing one over. “To be fair, it wasn’t exactly the mug you were crying about.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>Yeah,” she said, frowning into her paper cup. “But still, it’s really not like me.”</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>H</span>
  <span>arvey half snorted and half coughed into his cup. She eyed him suspiciously. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<span>Donna, it’s the twelfth,” he said, as if that solved everything. Donna shook her head.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He closed his eyes and sighed. “Please tell me you didn’t pack your tampons.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My- oh, god.” She took a swig of her coffee and thrust it into his hand. “I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harvey laughed as he sat back and enjoyed his coffees.</p>
  </div></div>
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